


Golden Dust

by Shades_of_Shadow



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Bad Dumbledore, Child Abuse, Child Sexual Abuse, Founders, M/M, Magical Core, Parent/Child Incest, Post Order of the Phoenix, Somnophilia, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-06 00:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16821400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shades_of_Shadow/pseuds/Shades_of_Shadow
Summary: Harry's life so far had been awful. Abusive family, dead godfather, and a Headmaster dumping the fate of the wizarding world on him before sending him back to the 'safety' of the blood wards. On top of it all his magical core seemed damaged. Facing death at the hands of his uncle Harry gives up, only to find himself taken to a place where he can recover. Hogwarts newly built, and 4 mages solving the mystery of the child that appeared in their mist.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So my first fanfiction. Not very original. Not good grammar or spelling. Honestly I apologise for all of it. First chapter just to get the Fic going- enjoy?!

Harry shifted positions, his left leg had pins and needles running through it- funny how he could focus on that - considering his right ankle was broken. The cupboard under the stairs did not offer much space for getting comfortable, in fact Harry was sure it had shrunk in the 4 years since he last resided here. Of course he did have enough logic to know that it was far more likely that he had grown, well unless magic was involved, but the magical world did seem to like making things bigger rather than the reverse. Harry was ironically aware enough to realise his thoughts were unfocused, that he felt shivery, that pain was lacing through him and that the phrase as easy as breathing should never be used because breath seemed quite hard to come by. For some at least, for he was quite sure that the Dursleys were breathing fine, in fact sleeping fine since it was dark and they had retired to bed some time ago. Harry gritted his teeth at the thought of his o'so loving family, the aunt that worked him and starved him, the cousin that bullied and belittled (although they all did the latter a lot too) and his uncle , thank goodness he was not related by blood to that man. That man who had snapped his ankle under his foot, bellowing in his face that Harry should be grateful to him, that many would have drowned his freaky ass at birth, or at least as soon as they found him on their doorstep. The beatings actually were easier to deal with when he was younger, when his magic seemed to help heal the injury so that within a few days, no more that half a week the wound would be healed. Broken bones, concussions, or blood being spat out of his mouth always seemed to be gone. Harry hadn't realised or noticed it getting slower,not at first, and hadn't even noticed how unusual it was either. 

When he had come back after first year it had been bad, his welcome home took a month to semi heal, Dobby hadn't helped... That was also the summer his natural glamour appeared. Waking up and seeing his best friend outside his window had sent him for a moment into a state of panic, and for the first time he felt his magical core activate. It protected him. Not from physical danger (although if the Dursleys had found out ...) but from discovery. In a way he was thankful that Vernon had seen his departure, for the man saw that the freak had concealed the evidence. Next year was bad, the flying car had not gone down well... Harry had started feeling angry though- a relatively new emotion. Usually it was a mix of fear and acceptance. It had boiled over with Marge ( loathe was he to call her Aunt), he remembered how it had felt to activate the glamours, he reached for magic to vindicate him, and it did. Of course he told everyone it was an accident, what else could he say when facing expulsion, or what he thought would be expulsion. Third year was when he really started examining some of the small things, he was allowed in Diagonal alley for a significant amount of time, so he pulled a hermionie and bought books. All on magical centres, or magical cores. He learnt a lot.  
But then his year was taken up with escaped prisoners, time turners and dementers. Learning the patronus charm from Lupin was aided in his knowledge of his core, as he was able to open it to allow the charm. However the spell was driven and powered not only through the magic of the wizard- his delay on performing it was near solely down to the emotion. Being happy was not something Harry experienced often or with great force. Surviving was, being victorious was whether it be in quidditch matches or going up against a dark lord. How many 13 year olds could honestly say that statement. He managed though... The greatest being in the time loop when there was hundreds of dementors. It wasn't a time fluke, he thought of escaping the Dursleys, he thought of friendship and perhaps a true family, and he opened his core to the max pouring the magic through the spell. It was better than a broom, it was the purest freedom ever. Going back to the Dursleys had been harder than any year previous, and left a bitter taste in his mouth- that was soon replaced with blood. He had lost teeth that summer. His threat of Sirius had held for a week before breaking under the rage of his uncle, along with multiple bones. Harry had tried to defend himself, but accessing his core he found that it was less, much less. Recovery of magical drainage was supposed to take a few weeks, no more that 6 tops. Harry was relieved when the Weasleys came for the World Cup, although was wondering if there might be a way he could never return to privet drive considering the fiasco which took place upon the twins arrival and Harry's departure.  
Fourth year was a whirlwind of trouble brewed expertly by Fates bitchy hands. Rons betrayal had hurt, the not TRIwizard tournament was unbelievable. He walked into the dragon habitat wearing glamours over his still healing body. The whole world watching. No one saw anything but the boy-who-fricking-lived. Ron came back, but when he checked after the first task he saw his magical core still hadn't. Harry pushed the worry away... It was increasing slightly but not recovered and small compared to what it should be. Harry was promptly distracted by the rest of his life, that was until the third task. Cedric, pettigrew, the ritual, the rebirth. The pain as Voldemort touched him... O yes he screamed but he did more too- because the pain was coming from something close to his core. And it hurt. Gasping running, crucio's, taunts and then unbelievably his father, his mother. Returning had hurt, Moody's revelation had hurt, and Sirius walking out of the hospital wing had hurt. Logically he knew he couldn't stay, but it hurt. As did the Dursleys as he was forced back for another summer. It was bad, Harry knew at this stage it wasn't good, wasn't right, wasn't fair- but he also didn't fight. Physical pain of this sort he knew how to deal with. So he only fought when the dementors came. The cold hands gripping his neck, cold despair, lips descending to eat his soul. And then his core opening, magic the patronus dementors fleeing. Well most- the one that had almost kissed him had floated above when Harry had driven the other away from the pig form of his cousin. It stared at him, Harry almost felt a longing coming from it. Interrupted by Ms Figg, and when he looked back it was at an empty sky he was staring into.  
Fifth year, a trial, dreams that hurt like it was him being hurt, blood quills that seemed quaint compared to the Dursleys but somehow just as powerful. DA, he didn't like the name, he didn't want to be part of an army- not one named after a man who ignored his every sincere plea. He had asked at the end of his second year, argued slightly at the end of his third, and begged in the mess of the last task and the few weeks that followed. And still his core had not returned. He didn't truly realise until the attack on Mr Weasley when the horror that he could be dangerous made him plunge into his magic. It was big, but it hadn't recovered- and he couldn't study it, or read up on it with Umbridge or others like the order always being around. The occlumency with Snape, and his crystal clear advice of 'clear your mind' which left him hopeless, he was surprised that the act of pushing basic non important memories towards Snape (or the simple Other that his mind registered) worked. Unless he went looking very hard. Harry was able to give him a memory in the remit of whatever Snape wanted. Childhood embarrassment equalled Dursleys neglect but no words of abuse. Childhood fear was forcibly redirected to Marges dog. Sexual experience towards Cho, glad that something viewable could be brought up for him to dismiss. It was enough- the bad secrets were not exposed Harry could keep the facade going. That was all it had become at some point. But blocking his mind was too hard. On the few occasions he did so at night Harry felt drained and exhausted upon waking. After examining his core after one such night he found it weaker. Harry never thought fully of the consequences of choosing to keep his core strong over blocking his mind. Although his thought to perhaps ask Snape was impossible after the pensive incident. Harry had felt disgusted, his father a great man- such lies. Sirius and Remus did not help, Harry had seen more of Snape than he thought any others would ever see- the boy cowering under the belt- a man who would have got on with the Dursleys no doubt. The clothes that were second hand and worn, 'it's more the fact that he exists'. How many different ways had he heard that from his loving family. Pity flittered past Harry as he leapt towards anger and sorrow that his father was a bully, and that his godfather still was. But he loved Sirius, he could not forgive him. He tried not to aggravate Snape anymore than his resemblance to his father could.  
The end of his fifth year, the vision he had not questioned and the danger he put his friends into. The pain of being called James, followed immediately by.... Watching Sirius fall, watching the light in his grey eyes fade and watching his body disappear. Pain. Pain. Pain. His entire life. Harry did exactly what Sirius had done facing pain, he sought revenge. Running through the the rooms of the department of mysteries, panting heavily as he raced through and past the floating planets, the brains, the classroom swirling with the golden dust of the broken time turners, the room of many doors, all to reach Bellatrix. He was so full of his own pain but unable to inflict it on her. The duel between the white and Black chess kings. Magic soaring through the air. The possession hurt, a piece of him longed for it, not that Harry took much notice at the time- the pain of a thousand knifes had him. On one level he sensed the Dark Lords surprise as he raped his mind, on another the words spoken by his mouth, and another seeing the look of contemplation on Dumbledores face as he looked down upon him.  
But he survived as always, even again victorious with the ministry fully back tracking, recanting and accepting the return of the o'so fearsome You Know Who. He let a tiny amount of the pain out when he destroyed the possessions of the Headmasters office. There were many things he wanted to say- you betrayed me, you liar, you were going to kill me, Sirius is dead because of me, my relatives will most likely kill me this summer, my magic is wrong, there's something in me that likes and wants Voldemort. Instead he heard the prophecy. He didn't remember leaving the office, next thing he knew he was in front of Snapes office looking at the door and not knocking. He needed to say it he knew, before the end of term, but somehow not quite yet. 

*****

He drifted for days, he checked that his friends were alright, sent letters to gringotts, and drifted. Three days before the Hogwarts express departed for London, then two, then one. The leaving feast with Dumbledore talking about these Dark times. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table, saw them sitting straight and proud in the face of the many pointed and hate filled stares. He saw Malfoy sitting arrogantly like his father wasn't just arrested, but Harry thought for a minute second that there was fear in his eyes. The house of Snakes was a house of masks Harry suddenly realised, and he had the surprising desire to laugh. The sorting hats words rang through his mind, of course he would be great in Slytherin, Harry was great at hiding, great at surviving, but at the same time he lacked ambition- it had been squashed out of him, and his cunning only showed when fully dedicated to a task- like da, like occlumency. His ruthlessness? Well he had brought Lockhart to the chamber as punishment and as a meat shield. Looked at the table of masks, then looked at its head of house. 'Last chance' echoed through his mind.  
The feast ended and they returned to their common rooms, Harry alongside Ron and Hermione, with Neville and Ginny close by. Harry stopped a few minutes away from the fat lady- 'Damn, I need to go see Dobby about something- he said he would be in the kitchen- I'll be up in a bit Kay?"  
"Sure. Grab me some eclairs would ya?"  
"Ron we just left a feast! For goodness sa-" hermiones sharp reply to Rons endless stomach, but nodding her head as well as rolling her eyes at Harry, all the while continuing to berate the red headed male. He pulled a smile that was not entirely fake onto his face. He loved his best friends. They needed to work out their feelings for each other though- he couldn't tell anymore if it was brother/sister or something else. Walking away he swiftly walked down the stairs, maintaining an even and not too swift pace. He didn't want to get stopped by looking rushed. He kept on going down, heading towards the dungeon, towards the office of the man he wanted or needed to speak to. The mans office door was made of an ancient dark wood, snakes twined round the edge of doorframe looking black with glints of silver. A plaque of bronze lay on the door denoting the office: 

Slytherin Head of House Offices  
Master Severus Tobias Snape 

The script was lavish, the first letter seemed to shine strangely on the door. Harry reached for an ancient looking knocker shaped like a snake looped in an endless coil. One breath, two - lifted the knocker- one more breath and let it fall. Harry could feel a magic vibration echoing through the wood- convincing him that one knock was enough. Tension wrapped it's way around his stomach. Harry made himself shed a layer of masks, not all, not the glamours, just the good natured arrogance, the slightly bruised invulnerability, and after a moments thought the confidence of the chosen one. That one was always present in some degree, faked confidence so that he would act bravely in terrifying situations- like a unicorn killer wraith or chess board pieces in first year. The bravery wasn't fake, but the confidence was.  
Harry wondered if he would let more drop later or should now, but by then the door was already swinging open.  
Snapes black eyes hardened as they caught sight of the student who had knocked.  
"Potter" he spat out, disgust detectable to even the biggest dunderhead " what are yo-"  
"May we talk inside Professor? It may be best" Harry knew that interrupting was generally a bad idea but even so he knew that the conversation must take place inside the room.  
Snapes eyebrow raised and anger danced beneath the surface of his retinas which scanned over the youngest potter brat before him. There was something different about him.  
"The proper form of address for once, my my Potter you must be desperate." Snape taunted. Harry fixed his gaze to the professor looking him straight in the eye and simply said "yes"  
Internally Snape frowned, anger and annoyance should have been the response, even if he was desperate- admission would not be stated so clearly, directly or steadily. Keeping his eyebrow raised he merely stepped aside allowing Potter entry and for the door to swing shut.  
"I do not have all night Potter, even if my patience could take that which I assure you, it cannot"  
Harry wondered if he had always appreciated the bitter tongue or had never - it seemed Snape had levels of detest and miraculously Harry Potter had just jumped down a few.  
" I have a few things to say, or rather state with rather little time to do so. None of which you will want to hear, none of which you will accept"  
Snape wanted to blink at the tone, substance and deliverance of those words, he wondered if the boy was in fact Potter. Never had the brat shown an ounce, nay gram of constraint or maturity in his speech before.  
Harry paused, heart slightly hammering at what he was going to say and do, could he do this?  
"Continue Potter what is it you think you have a right to say? Complaints can be made directly to the Headmaster if that is where you are going?"  
Harry whose eyes had dropped to the floor jerked upwards, he wanted to draw his griffindor courage up to the surface- blazing with righteous outrage- it would be so much easier with that mask to say what he wanted, but not so well received. He pushed it down. He let only determination shine through his eyes, and saw minutely the professor stiffen.  
"None of my words are for the Headmaster, nor for any other ears but yours. The headmaster has failed this school and it's students now for many generations. The injustices done have not been rectified, neither by staff nor by the wrong doer. Some in specific regards to yourself. The actions of the marauders were not that of pranksters but that of bullies and should have been treated as such. The knowledge of familial abuse should have led to investigation and support not abandonment. Life endangerment should have led to suspension, if there was to be a coverup it should have been of the reason for the suspension rather than of the entire crime. Genius should have been appreciated regardless of political climate or house origins or personal financial status or even that of blood. My father should have been punished, my godfather should have been punished. I understand that any closure is hard without them admitting they were wrong. And that is something you cannot have. You have mine in their place, while I will still love the memory, or concept in the case of my father, I will not forgive them. You are free to do so in the knowledge that they have lost in more ways than just their lives. Till my own death and any explanation that may follow that they shall not be forgiven." 

Snape stood frozen to the spot, anger and hated pulsed through him, but shock held him in place. The Potter boy should run, he numbly thought, while he still can... But it seems he would not.  
Harry took a deep breath, now for the dangerous part... 

" I hope you know my words to be sincere. I know now the basis for the words against my father, however in relation I noticed that no insults where ever given in the name of my mother"  
Snape's heart skipped  
"upon reflection of this point and of the memory that I had no right to witness I have come to a conclusion which I think is true. Lily Evans was your friend."  
Snape took a step back, this wasn't Potter couldn't be Potter, the brat would never have come to such a conclusion. Green eyes of Lily watched him, and nodded almost absently.

" I thought so. I do not know when or where it began, but through you not using her name as an insult I assume it was genuine. While the memory I witnessed was disgraceful in the display of my father and friends, it would hardly form a crucial memory to withdraw. Therefore while the humiliation was horrible, the true hurt of the memory is Lily, my mother, walking away" 

Harry's tone which had remained distant, steady and honest took on the note of warmth, pity and regret in the last few words. Snape wasn't sure he was breathing. This could not be happening.  
Harry could see his words effecting the stoic man, the friendship was deep he realised. 

" I imagine there was great pressure as a Slytherin to speak those words, especially in the time when the Dark Lord was beginning to rise. Added to the situation witnessed I believe that though spoken the word was not meant. She should have forgiven you, if she did not then I do." 

Snape felt something shift, he must correct this, his voice rasping like it had not been used in years he said  
" You have no idea what you are attempting to forgive. I did things which are unforgivable, I hurt, I hurt those who should never have been harmed... You cannot forgive which you do not know"  
Harry considered the mans words, the guilt went deeper than friendship broken or love stolen, who should not have been harmed? Who made him repeat the words 'I hurt'? Who was hurt that he cared abou-  
Severus saw a flicker of realisation in the emerald eyes, and o how painful was it to look into them. But there was no way he could know what he was speaking of- just as there was no way it could be forgiven.  
Harry's mind raced piecing together the story of the past, Dumbledores words 'the spy did not hear the full prophecy', Snape's 'I hurt those who should never have been harmed' - Lily his mother, himself a child, a spy indeed. Heart thumping Harry let silence stretch for a few moment more 

" it was you." Snape flinched, 'no' he thought in shock. The words so sharp. So cutting. So distant. 

"I -I- what..." 

" It was you, you heard the words, you gave them to Vold- the Dark Lord, he killed them. You were the spy" Harry knew Voldemorts name hurt those marked, he knew also that this is what Snape thought could not be forgiven. Harry thought logically, then emotionally- what did he think? What did he feel about this?  
Snape gaped at the 15 year old boy, the one he swore to protect. The ones who eyes came from his first friend his Lily. This was never supposed to be revealed. Harry's eyes met Snape's, and the man did not know how he was still upright. 

" where there others with you? When you heard it?  
Snape shook his head, a moments pause then another as Harry gathered his thoughts 

" you think that you cause her death, you fear it, you believe it" Harry let everything he had left shine through his eyes, making sure Snape looked at them he stated "you are wrong" 

Snape felt like he had just been knocked off a broom, he wanted to contradict, he wanted his anger back, his hatred, but he couldn't grasp it. Blood pumped impossibly loud round his head. 

" you are wrong" Harry repeated " yes you heard the prophecy, but he would have heard it from another source eventually. After all pettigrew was in his ranks and the orders. And it was him that betrayed them, his supposed friends, when we could have been safe. You did not make the prediction, you do not control the fates, you had no knowledge of who he would target. You did not kill my mother, the Dark Lord did. even further if you want or need to assign blame you could lay her death at my feet. He offered her life in exchange for me, she died because she was protecting me. It was not your fault. It was his, it was Wormtails, it was mine, and it was Fates. You could even blame Dumbledore for not warding the place, or not better protecting them. You are wrong. It's not your fault. I do not blame you, even if you continue to blame yourself." 

The forgiveness hung unsaid and unneeded in the air between them. Snape looked away and felt something like tears coming from his eyes, his throat hurt like he had been screaming but had not made a sound. He knew, he forgave, he knew 

"How?" Snape croaked, eyes looking back to the boys face "how did you know?" 

Harry nodded, he was running out of time, he needed to leave...  
" Dumbledore told me the prophecy after the DoM battle. He said it was overheard by a spy, he gave no names. I didn't know before, but now I do. You are not to blame, and regardless you risk your life in spying, to bring him down. You redeemed yourself of this long ago, I cannot know what you did while a true death eater, but since- you have saved my life many times, you risked your life for mine - whatever debt you feel has been repaid and I release you from it." 

Magic rippled through the air, Snape gasped and felt a weight physically lift from him. Somehow sending him to his knees. The binding oath he swore nullified. Magic released him. Potters proclamation the cause.  
Harry looked down at the now kneeling professor. It was done now- Harry briefly let all his pretence of strength leave him, he was tired he was walking back towards hell and he had lost whatever made him want to live. His magic was getting weaker not stronger. The prophecy said that neither could live while the other survives- perhaps Voldemort being alive was enough to kill him. If not his muggle relatives would.  
"Potter what have you done?" Snape looks up just to see the boys face change. The glimpse he caught was something he could quite place. The one now viable however was one he'd seen on Lily's face, pride mixed with relief.  
"Exactly what I needed to, Thank you for listening Professor. I have meant every word .... Please remember what I said. Please remember. I do not blame you. I blame the headmaster much more than I would blame you. You were wronged. You were a child. You should have been protected. Thank you for everything you have given. Goodnight Professor Snape." 

He walked calmly towards the door, openedts it before half turning to say "I know I shouldn't have looked in your pensive, but at the same time thank you. I saw my parents alive for the time I can really or want to remember. I will demand answers from them whenever I see them, but I feel like my mum would have wanted her friend to have closure and peace. Forgiven. Goodbye sir."  
Harry sprinted to the fat lady, he called Dobby who appeared with two dozen eclairs and a few other treats. Ron was predictable, well when it wasn't chess. Harry thanked Dobby then after the house elf left opened the portrait. 

"Harry there you are!"  
"Wow yes! Thanks Harry" Ron grabbed two eclairs 

"Yeah the house elves over heard and well as you can see" Harry said with a grin  
"Excellent pass us one of th- ow!" Hermione slapped him 

Conversation flowed, Harry relaxed, at some point Hermione sat next to him and quietly asked why he wanted to see Dobby " after all you never actually said?"  
Harry smiled "well I was wandering whether he would be able to apparate me some food parcels from the Hogwarts kitchen, you know for over the summer...what do you think?"  
Hermione beamed "what a good idea! And of course he already knows where you live- did he say yes?"  
Harry nodded, he had asked Dobby to confirm this story until September 1st. Harry sat back and watched his friends  
"What's the fat lady's name anyhow? Anybody know?" Nevile asked " maybe it would help for the next time I forgets the password!"  
"Of course it's known, honestly if I've said it once I've said it a thousand times, you simply must read-"  
" Hogwarts: a History!" Everyone said together, then laughed at her expression. Hermionie rolled her eyes and just said "well you should" 

Snape was not at the breakfast table next morning. Harry boarded the train. Looking out he saw a black billow, Snape was escorting a 4th year onto the platform sneering subtlety. After putting the student on the train, he turned instinctively to where he felt he was being watched, and met what he called the Lily Green eyes. Neither of them moved for a second, then Snape gave a quick jerk of the head. Harry let a small smile tug at his lips- that was Snape giving a nod- which he returned. Harry felt relief course through him. He heard him. He believed him. He would understand. He would remember. 

Severus watched as Harry's eyes flashed with relief. Turning away he slightly frowned. He'd had relief and pride in his face yesterday. Now just relief. Plus that emotion just before he looked up. What was that??  
Walking back to the school, Snape thought. It wouldn't be until a few days later that he would recognise it as resignation. And he wouldn't think about it again until September. When he would remember. 

*****************  
Which led Harry to three weeks since the end of term, sitting broken in the cupboard under the stairs. Yes his right ankle was broken. His right hip was too. His left leg wasn't suffering from pins and needles, but from a glass shard piercing his thigh. He had landed on glass when pushed. Bruises painted him. Right arm was burnt in multiple places. Left arm hanging limp. Fingers twisted. His back belted and bleeding, while cuts of different lengths and depths scared his torso. The Dursleys hadn't taken well to the orders threats. Every three days he was forced to write a letter. After which he was hurt. Dudley didn't seem to be joining in though Harry mused. He was lightheaded. He wasn't stupid, he knew that he would go soon. Gringotts had authority over his accounts for 10 years, then it would go to Severus Snape. The goblins would read a fake will leaving quite a lot of money to the Weasleys, Hermione, Lupin, Luna, Nevile, and a decent amount to the order. Snape would be discreetly informed of everything and if Snape lived for 10 years he would be very wealthy. That or if Voldemort was utterly defeated or at anytime Snape wanted to flea and escape. Harry put a lot of trust in the goblins. They could easily manipulate this to their advantage. Harry hoped they wouldn't. Harry hoped Snape remembered. He also hoped that no one would see his body. Covered in scars. Old words carved into him. Boy. Slave. Bitch. Filth. Freak. Worthless. Whore.  
He wanted to add more- his own rather than theirs. Tracing the words with a glass shard slowly and carefully. When done Harry rested his pounding head against the cupboard wall and fell asleep.  
The words glistening in red blood, WEAPON  
BETRAYED  
BROKEN


	2. Chapter Two: Unlikely Assistance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A saviour for our saviour who tries to help the chosen one- but are they successful- and an overview from their perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning : CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE in this chapter.  
> I've rated it explicit to be safe. Felt weird to be writing it.  
> Okay so chapter two turned out differently from my expectations.  
> Sorry for spelling, grammar etc. Also non of the Harry Potter world belongs to me :(  
> If want to skip chapter because of tag warning will do summary at end notes.

Chapter two  
Harry woke with a start. The first emotion was surprise - he didn't think he would wake up ever again. The second thing he felt was pain. Pain so strong, pain across his whole body. His leg from the glass that had pierced it, his ankle throbbing with every heartbeat, his back from Vernons belt. Behind the pain was the itching- the unbearable itch of every open wound, the urge to scratch them open again or more, which would result in the little healing that had thus far occurred to be undone. Good thing that I'm so tired, Harry numbly thought, means I don't have the energy to scratch. Harry sighed, then winced from the action. He checked his magical core again. It was worse. After the dementors of his third year it had started to recover. However for the last year it had stayed at small, bigger than the post dementors, but never even half as big as prior to it. Now though, terrifyingly it had begun to shrink. Harry had noticed at the end of last year, after the ministry battle. It was getting smaller. This was why Harry was convinced that he was going to die. His relatives normal treatment was brutal, and without his magic healing him he had no chance. 

The question of why rolled around in his mind- shrinking cores did not happen for no reason. A recovering core would do exactly that- recover. This was perplexing. Harry mentally rolled his eyes- 'maybe I should concentrate on the dying part rather than the why' he idly thought. Breathing was definitely getting harder, all he could hear was his rasping breaths meaning the Dursleys were not yet awake. He wondered what day it was. Not that it really mattered- but this date would probably be written on his tombstone. An itch was building in his chest, an aching , a pounding that was rising to his throat. Harry launched into coughing fit, fighting to catch a breath in between what felt like hacking up a lung.  
' Need to breathe, need to breathe,need' Harry's brain shut down every thought apart from that - he willed his chest to relax, blood thundering like a dragon through his ears.Breathe. Breathe. Need. Suddenly the cupboard door flew open 

"What are you trying to do boy? Wake the entire neighbourhood! You will stop that infernal racket you good for nothing FREAK- NOW!" Harry was dragged from the cupboard and pushed into the kitchen where he attempted to communicate to the whale that was his uncle. 

"Can't- cough- he-cough- help- cough cough cough - help?" 

Each cough had seemed wet to Harry in the cupboard, but in the morning light streaming through the windows of the kitchen he realised that he was coughing up blood. His plea however enraged his uncle who started towards him. Not that Harry saw his head had fallen to the floor. The whole world was blurring. He heard raised voices. Someone was arguing. The sound of flesh being hit. He didn't feel any pain though. He looked at the blood on the otherwise sterile kitchen floor. It shimmered gold. More shouting- two men? He was being dragged again. It hurt. He was outside. Someone was asking him something. The sky was beautiful- wisps of clouds stretched elegantly across the pale morning blue. He coughed again: gold floated in front of him. Someone let go of him. He was falling. The sky turned gold. Harry didn't feel himself hitting the ground. 

****  
Some minutes earlier...  
Dudley Dursley was conflicted. He had a lot to think about this last year. A lot he hadn't wanted to think about at all. Almost all of it was concerning his cousin. Some of it was to do with his Dad. Actually a lot had to do with his Dad. A little was to do with himself. And he had to make a choice now to save a life. Possibly his own.  
\---  
When Dudley has been 5, he had asked a bad question. He had asked why the freak was called Harry. They had gone to school today for the first time. The teacher had introduced them both. And both had been equally surprised at the name Harry. His cousin however hadn't been foolish enough to question his aunt and uncle. Dudley had. Dudley has never been scared of his father before- he had thought it funny getting the freak into trouble before. But he was when his dad started shouting about how dare he question him, how the freak was a freak and shouldn't have a normal name, how Dudley better treat him like one at school or else. When Harry came home the next day, hesitantly talking about a friend he made, Vernon had shouted raved, smacked Harry and informed him that Freaks don't have friends. He turned to Dudley, his fist raised. Dudley shut his eyes but only felt his hair being ruffled. "Isn't that right Dudley?" His dad had whispered.  
Dudley had made sure Harry didn't have friends after that. After a while he stopped remembering why. 

When Dudley was 8 he snuck downstairs to watch the Freak/Harry get punished. Dad had showed him how to hit ages ago. He was bored with hitting. He didn't quite understand why it was so fun. His dad made it sound like he would be a man if he hit people. "Show them who is in charge my son" and sometimes it felt good to hit the other kids, he felt powerful. But he would also feel sometimes like there were worms in his stomach. He would ask for Ice cream then. He ate a lot of ice cream. So he was bored, and knew that punishing must be better than just hitting. So he watched as his father dragged his cousin into the living room. As he tore off his clothes and instructed the boy to brace himself against the wall. He watched the belt descend. His father looked so happy. His face smiling, his eyes gleamed. Dudley felt sick. His fathers eyes ran over his cousins body in glee and something else. Vernons hand started rubbing his groin. Dudley didn't understand- did he need the loo? Dudley silently ran back to his room. He felt weird. He didn't want to do that. 10 minutes later Dudley heard his father come up the stairs, and pause outside his bedroom. Dudley suddenly felt scared for no reason that he knew. He thought his Dad might come in- but he didn't. He stood for 2 minutes, then Dudley heard him move towards the main bedroom. He didn't like this. He decided to ignore the whole thing. It never happened.

When Dudley was nine he saw him mum half drown his cousin in the bathtub. She was standing over him, forcing him under the water. He was struggling- then he stopped. His mother just stood up and looked at the dark haired boy for a moment before turning and leaving the bathroom. Dudley had raced in and dragged his cousin out of the bath. He thought there might be too much water in his cousins belly so he punched it. And again, and again. Harry suddenly coughed and gasped. His rasps filled the bathroom, and then he looked up at Dudley. Dudley panicked kicked him again and said he wanted a bath. His cousin had left. Dudley mentioned how Freaks should only be allowed to shower to his Dad later. Harry looked at him strangely- so Harry Hunting was done with extra hitting the next day. 

When Dudley was 10 and a half he wondered why his Dad never came on weekend trips with mum and him. They happened once a month. When he asked, his father had looked at him before saying "I'm giving a new punishment to the Freak. If you want you can join in?" Dudley felt cold before saying no he enjoyed the weekends away.  
When Harry was being told that he was a wizard, Dudley felt excited. Sure the big man was scary at first, but magic was real! Then his Dad started shouting, and his mum joined in. Worms appeared in his stomach, and he was hungry anyway so surely it wouldn't be so bad if he helped himself to some cake? The tail freaked him out a lot. Magic could hurt him, and he had a pigs tail! Although he also thought that he could hide it pretty well. His excitement dwindled when his dad said he had to examine it. Magic was dirty and wrong. Magic was freakish. Magic was horrid. He hated magic. 

A new school helped. His Dad still said to show everyone who was in charge, but his teachers didn't like him as much as primary school. He ate less though, there were less worms in his stomach. They had sexual education- Dudley asked whether medical examinations happened in the same area- they did. A teacher asked if everything was okay at home- he told them about the latest gadget he was going to get.  
Harry returned. Magic was still scary, but he was brave. But he couldn't just talk to Harry, his mum and dad might see. He didn't want to be a freak. Although he kind of thought chemistry was like magic. He teased him- trying to get him to talk about Hogwarts, or his friends, or anything. It didn't work. Then he saw the flying pudding. He wanted to leap up and down - MAGIC- so COOL! He didn't- and Harry got into a lot of trouble. Still he pushed some soup through the cat flap each day- aunt petunia didn't question him when he went into or out of the kitchen with food. The flying cake was nothing to the flying car. Amazing. When Harry went his Dad started visiting his room. He would stroke his hair face arms. Dudley pretended to be asleep then wake up. He joked that he was too old for nighttime tuck ins. 

Next summer was worse and better, aunt Marge became a balloon! Harry left - which was wise because Vernon smacked him across the room when he said that was cool. Dudley wasn't sure if Harry would have managed. Dudley wasn't such a kid anymore. He was going on a diet. He didn't bully kids at school anymore- but did at home. He wasn't sure what was exactly wrong with their family, but thought Harry was right to leave. Dudley stayed away from the house for the rest of the summer.  
That year a boxing coach came to school. Boxing was fun, the difference was the other person could fight back. When going through the rules Dudley learnt about boxing according to size and strength. He asked about it and learnt about a fair fight. The coach was great. And good looking. Dudley didn't want those thoughts. It was dirty and wrong, and his mum and dad had lots of words to describe those people. Except coach noticed- and took him aside and explained he didn't like him as anything more that a good student. Dudley felt sad and relieved all at the same time. Coach said to talk to Mr Ricard - chemistry teacher - if he felt confused. He did. It turns out that it was okay to like men or women or both or neither. Mr Ricard was cool, and offered extra chemistry classes to a couple of students. Dudley felt happy. 

Summer and he ate a toffee from the floor. Oops. He would be lying if he said he didn't panic. I mean anyone would. But he liked the red haired wizards a lot- they came through the fireplace! And the adult one was very patient, and helped reduce his tongue. He barely mumbled thanks, before his mum and dad shouted him out of the house. Was this what shame was? His parents hadn't thanked the man even. And he had sorted out the entire living room in a couple of waves of his wand. Amazing! His dad seemed frustrated after Harry had left- angrier. Well he didn't have someone to hit every night before getting ready for bed. He always showered at night his father did.  
He didn't want to go home for Christmas that year. He hadn't gone since the first year. But they had insisted. Mum had visited a friend in Yorkshire for the last week of the holidays. Dudley... His dad took him shopping. They went to adult stores. Vernon said it was time to have the talk. They, well he bought movies. Some were role play. Dudley felt sick. Vernon said there was a special video he filmed himself that he wanted them to watch on the last night. Dudley stayed out with friends till early morning. He slept in the back garden - Harry had done it loads of times after all. 

Summer holidays - there was something wrong with Harry he had nightmares. So did Dudley. He had asked Mr Ricard about adult videos- he said it was normal to be interested in them- Dudley didn't dare ask anything more. Dudley was sure his father was one of those bad men. Dudley had looked up laws and agencies that dealt with child abuse. He felt stupid. He felt the worms in him like never before. He couldn't ask Harry. Yes Dudley had seen his father beat him unconscious, or him being burnt for messing up the cooking, or belted for bad chores, and his mum drown him. But maybe that was normal for a wizard? Or something else was going on? Plus didn't that mean he was an abuser, which he didn't want. He didn't know what he was saying when he taunted about the name 'cedric'. But the effect... Demons. Cold. He started to remember something. It wasn't real, he lashed out he fell. He remembered more. 

Harry saved him. His mum knew about demons. What he remembered wasn't real. Couldn't be. He found a tape at the end of the summer- he stole it.  
\---  
The last year had changed a lot. He spent half the year thinking while trying to forget. Mr Ricard asked if something was wrong, so did coach. His chemistry grade went high as he avoided the tape in his dormitory. He didn't go back for Christmas, after all he has his GCSES this year. At Easter he watched it. It wasn't Harry on the video. It was his father naked with a blond boy. His father touching him. The boy not waking up. Dudley not waking up. Chemicals could knock someone out for hours he knew.  
Everything at home was wrong. He knew that now- he didn't know how to stop it. His mother had told him that Harry had to stay with them for protection. If Harry left then what would his dad do to him. Why was he so selfish? Why had he helped make Harry's life horrible? Why couldn't he do magic and just escape it all? 

He watched as Harry returned- he seemed defeated already. Dudley wondered what was wrong. Those other wizards warned them to treat Harry right. Dudley wanted to shout it out right then. He watched as Harry was beaten, and hurt and whipped and burnt. When Harry was unconscious he cleaned the wounds. He debated what to do. Harry was getting worse. His dad was going to kill him.  
This was the thought that Dudley Dursely had when he heard his Dad go past his room. His room which has a lock on now. Dudley heard from downstairs coughing and shouting beginning to start. Dudley remembered the demons, black cloaks cold hands. He remembered the pure white light which seemed to be living hope. Dudley reached for his phone. Coach had given his number to him to arrange more training if he wanted. Dudley called him: 

"Hey kiddo do you know what time it is? I mean I was up anyway but still it is your summer holiday!"  
"Coach you know I live at no.4 privet drive, little whinging right?"  
"Yes -Dudley what's wrong?"  
"Stay on the line- please?"  
"Dudl-"  
He ignored coach and ran down stairs just in time to see his dad starting towards Harry. Fear pulsed through him:  
"Dad! Leave him - he's had enough. Just leave it won't you?" His dad stared stared at him in shock- before turning pink, then red  
"What do you think you are doing telling me what to do! I'm the man here boy, and this freak is still breathing ain't he? Using up valuable air! Now get out the way Dudley, or join in."  
Dudley stepped more firmly in between his dad and cousin.  
"No."  
"No? You little punk, who do you think you are? You disrespecting me!"  
"You're wrong - everything you are doing is wrong! Dad please just stop hurtin-"  
"What do you mean by everything boy?"  
Dudley went pale then tinged pink and stuttered " I - I - noo I mean ur"  
A smirk appeared on his fathers face "so jealous of what the freak is getting huh, you should have said son, I can give you that- trust me you'll love my thick cock - the freak chokes on it- you want to see?"  
His father suddenly lunged for Dudley grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him over the kitchen table- grinding his groin into his son, who whimpered.  
"Yes I've wanted this for so long Dudley, wanted you awake, not the same when you're asleep- the freaks mouth is only so good, I wanted you Dudley"  
Dudley felt sick, and retched in his mouth. No no no no no no no..... The Harry let out a weak rasping breath. Dudley remembered the bathtub, his gasps to live to breath. Dudley took one breath before readying himself and bucking his head backwards into his fathers face. His Dad yelled in pain and reared away off his son. Dudley span around and followed up with a jab to the nose again and a kick to the knee, before a right cross that knocked his father to the floor. Dudley stood in the kitchen heart beating breath steady, no worms, no guilt, no fear. Then he heard Harry's shallow rasps. Fear returned- he scrambled for his phone in his pocket.  
"Coach...?"  
"Dudley thank god! I've got the police on the way- o shit Dudley are you okay? Did that fucker touch you?"  
"For the last time- I'm okay but my cousin..." Dudley looked at Harry, he was barely breathing,  
"I'm going to get him outside for the ambulance"  
" it might not be good to move him Duds I mean-"  
"I have to-my mum will be down soon and she wants him dead"  
"Shit your family is... Sorry"  
"No your right, they're crazy"  
Dudley shoved his phone still on into his pocket and then gently as possible picked up Harry.  
He made his way outside, questioning his sanity slightly when the blood coming from his cousins lips was tinged with gold but ignoring it in favour of checking whether the younger boy was still breathing.  
"Harry can you hear me? I'm going for help Kay? It's Ms Figgs that can help right? Harry wake up-I don't know what I'm doing."  
Harry's head lolled around, he spluttered up more red golden blood which seemed to hum in the morning air. Then Dudley tripped losing his hold on his cousin sending him falling, but Harry never reached the ground. Gold seemed to suddenly incase him. It was like dust and sand. The Golden dust hung around him like he was caught in a sun beam, suspended in space, frozen for those few seconds. Dudley gasped and the gold glowed sharply, golden light filling his vision and then fading to nothing and more importantly no one. Dudley gaped at the nothing before him- and the 11 year old part of him that loved the idea of magic went - "that was so cool" as his cousin disappeared. 

****  
Harry, never felt the ground of privet drive, the next thing he was aware of was soft grass, warm sun and pleasant breeze. He felt like he could breathe a bit more. He felt peaceful, although he was aware of the pain. Peaceful. Then he opened eyes, and found a lion standing directly over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Harry is dragged out of cupboard coughing blood by Vernon. Blood is tinged gold. Harry goes in and out of consciousness so doesn't know who is dragging him out the of house. It is Dudley. Goes through some of Dudleys childhood- subtly helping Harry out/fear of his father. Vernon is a pedophile- who uses Harry to stop going after his own son. Dudley confronts his father protects himself and Harry and knocks out most awful uncle Vernon. He takes Harry outside only to watch as Harry seems to disappear in a light of Golden Dust.


End file.
